Author: Zheng Xie
Works: Twelve Poems by Nian Nujiao
Content:
The southeast is arrogant, sweeping away old habits and purging the country.
Cooper is lying in the temple, and dragons come to stay every night.
Weng Zhong's clothes, lion's horns, moss marks of static locks.
As the sun sets, several people are studying on horseback.
It is said that the world is impermanent, and the rain is coming, and the ghosts are crying and howling.
I don't remember the founding day of that year, and the clay figurine of the Yuan Dynasty burst into tears.
The eggshell is dry, and the world of pills and mud rolls like a candle.
On the side of the old monk's mountain, he only took a ladle of boiling spring.
Hong Guang was named Jinlian and Yushu when the People's Republic of China was founded, and later became a fanatic.
There is no limit to the suffering of plants, mountains and rivers, only to choose colors.
Swallows write notes, spring lanterns tell mysteries, and nights are short and days are narrow.
Haiyun paid separately, even the red sun stopped.
It was also the reign of Maruan, the town of Gao Liu, and the dog bag towel.
It's still annoying to sell it all, and I have to go to the southeast half.
Who can escape the rise and fall of a country and the success or failure of others?
Taiping Longwan, this Cao Jiu has been born.
Beside the old pavilion, it was blown into willow by the west wind.
Such as thread, such as silk, infinite hatred, the breeze is like smoke.
Sail on the river, don't cry before respecting, and have affectionate friends in your eyes.
Words are endless, and the sunset is sad.
Try to be famous for half your life, and be careful in your spare time. Nine out of ten things are often lost.
He dances in heavy makeup and is always tempted by his family.
Immediately, I screamed and begged in the street, and everything went up in smoke.
What is the joy of the generals? Being poor is better than being stubborn.
Where to turn around and turn to the prosperous old dreams?
Only the green hills surround the old country, and the yellow-leaf westerly vegetable garden.
Pick up the oak steps, fish in the palace marsh, and return at dusk.
The copper bottle is 100 feet high, and there is a whine.
Only a stone's throw from the river, Yu Wenhuaji is Han Qinhu.
Rouge came out arm in arm at the bottom of the well and asked where Erxiaoniang was.
In the Qing Dynasty, he sang the song "Crossing the River and Closing the Woman".
How many emperors are there in the true colors of Ci field?
The twilight clouds are fading away, the residual buildings are faint, and the clock is lying in the courtyard.
Outside the courtyard, there are thousands of green hills and shallow springs.
Crows make loose corridors, mice turn over scrolls, and monks are far away.
An empty beam is broken, and the nest does not belong to Yan.
Pity the rise and fall of the six generations, give birth to public interests above all else, and never care about grievances.
Plant bodhicitta halberd and enter the Sakyamuni wheel first.
The history of Qing dynasty mocked the bomb, passed the lamp as a laughing stock, and did nothing but sit on the wall.
Constant sand is boundless, and the number of man-made disasters is short.
The Gankun side, supported by generations of Hao Ying, is in mid-air.
The immortal dragon is immortal, and the seven orifices are drier than the heart.
Bamboo sticks and linen, scarlet robes and white blades are simple, clumsy and hard.
Confidence comes out, and I don't understand why.
I also know Gao Kui from Miracle, Yi San from Hongdian and Shen Fu from Yue Wei.
He collapsed from the beginning, and the topic was different.
Ten pieces of furniture, ten thousand pieces of skin, and the soul is broken.
The world's rats, how to make up the tiger!
The bridge is low red, the water is long beside Qinhuai, and the poplars are floating.
Lead the spring breeze to accompany the dancing swallows and say goodbye with dew and sadness.
Smoke is soft and pear blossoms, rain is cold and food is cold, and grass is in season.
Draw a boat full of flutes and drums.
After all, there are few peach leaves and peach roots in ancient and modern times, and the color art is called double unique?
A wisp of HongLing leans to the left, and the boudoir is more or less buried.
If Yi Guang and Zhu Luo die, who will be a philosopher?
Song of Wang Lang, Yan said.
Autumn is spiritual, it is a storm, it is bleak.
The sunset crow went down the mountain and asked about the former site of Taicheng.
Old vines hide snakes, flowers are cheap and blood is bad.
Someone is herding horses and the city head is blowing.
At the beginning, I sacrificed my face and only ate vegetables and fruits, abiding by Samoan laws.
Why do you dig mice when you are hungry?
Say it again, hehe. What's wrong with losing?
Hard words, tears in the hero's chest.
The winding alley, at the oblique angle of the spring city, under the shade of Populus davidiana.
The ochre wall is paved with stones, and the door reflects the flowing water of Bixi.
Drizzle, flute in the setting sun, peaches and plums all the way.
The wind blows the fallen flowers, and the falling flowers wind blows again.
It is also full of cars, every family is a swallow, and Jiang Jie has beautiful scenery.
In April, cherry blossoms are all over the city, and snowflakes are Shaded Knives.
Huaishui is clear in autumn, Zhongshan is dusk, and the old horse ploughs idle land.
A mountain and a ditch, I will die here.
Hanging rock thousands of feet, borrow European knives and axes, cut into battlements.
Thousands of miles of golden city stretches as far as the eye can see, and Hong Tao in Wan Li bursts.
Wang Jun boarded the ship, and he pointed out that the wind was profitable.
A torch is lit on the bow, and the chain is burned casually.
This spring, I went to Qiu Lai, where I was caught in a misty rain.
It is called the Six Dynasties to promote the abolition of things, and the Xiaoling Temple Pavilion is broken.
The mountains are desolate, the rivers are running, and the tide is hitting the empty city.
A few flutes sounded and reeds fluttered in the wind.
The word Yuanyang is a popular story, but is it true?
How many heroic sons and daughters created a disaster.
Golden lotus in the front hall, Yushu in the back court, both wind and rain.
Liu Jia is happy, a song for a long time!
In today's Ruyan Liu Lake, the lake clouds are like a dream, and the lake waves are thicker than wine.
At the foot of the mountain, vines and sleeves are dancing in the green belt.
Peach leaves are small, Mochow is small, and there is a loanword population.
What is the sin of romance? No honor, no shame, no blame.
Zhou Lang is a young man and a big shot in Jiangdong.
Eighty thousand troops flew torches, and the wind rolled the yellow leaves in front of the beach.
The building collapsed, the flag was swept and the river was bleeding.
In Xianyang in March, there is no such thing as fire.
I miss him and mourn for him. I'll think about that song, and Tiger Account will talk about the rest.
Gong Jin had a wonderful day, and the monarch said goodbye to his subjects.
Wu and Shu are friends, Liu is boiling, and the old charm becomes a traitor.
I still hate it. Qinhuai is suffocating every night.
The above Zheng Xie's work Nian Nujiao *** 12.
Year: Qing Dynasty
Author: Zheng Xie
Works: Qin
Content:
Flowers are ignorant, the moon is boring, and wine is lifeless.
Cutting peaches ruined his scenery;
Ying Ge cooked it. Help me.
Burning inkstones and books, tapping the piano and painting,
Destroy the article and erase the name.
Xingyang Zheng, born in wooden lattice, begged for food.
It's hard to be colder than cold.
The chair, hat and blue shirt are too thin.
Look at the autumn grass in Pengmen, and break the lane every year;
It is raining outside the window, and the lights are dim every night.
Does God really hate his mouth?
Don't sigh, okay?
Crazy, take a hundred pieces of black silk, fine.
Year: Qing Dynasty
Author: Zheng Xie
Works: After the Snow in the Mountain
Content:
Open the door in the morning, and the mountains are covered with snow.
The snow is clear, the clouds are light and the sun is cold.
Without plum blossom jelly dripping from the eaves,
A kind of loneliness is not idleness.
Year: Qing Dynasty
Author: Zheng Xie
Works: Lanruitu half basin.
Content:
Pot painting Shimada Hanzo, blue painting half contains.
No venting, no fear of decay.
Year: Qing Dynasty
Author: Zheng Xie
Works: Carved bamboo stone
Content:
Adhere to the castle peak and not relax,
Roots were originally in broken rocks;
Hard work and perseverance,
East, west, north and south winds.